


Won't Somebody Throw Me Something to Hold?

by tooweirdtolove



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Fluff, M/M, Mental Illness, Texting, bipolar, isak is caring, these kids are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:43:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooweirdtolove/pseuds/tooweirdtolove
Summary: Isak. Even. Together.Or,Sometimes life isn't always lemons. Sometimes life gives you limes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first story, hope you enjoy. Please leave kudos?comment if you enjoyed it so I know when to update soon. Xx Ema

Won't Somebody Throw Me Something to Hold?

It’s not always yellow curtains and cardamom. Not always Gabrielle and a spoonful of sour cream. Maybe that’s how you think it is, but it is not. Some days are just hurricanes. For both of them. Today, Even couldn’t get out of bed. He stuck to the sheets like sticky molasses and his mind couldn’t get a pen on paper quick enough. He wants just rip out his mind from his body and throw it over his shoulder and not look back. Never, ever, ever, ever again.

And he knows. He knows it’s not always like this. Some days are smiles and soft hair and sweatshirts and kebabs. Some days are filled with orange pink lavender sunsets, filled with breezes blowing his hair away from his face. Some days are bike rides in the streets, hearing people chat and walk together, hand in hand. But some days aren’t.  
Even closes opens closesopenscloses his eyes. Blink once, blink twice. Don’t cry. Do not. If Even cries, he will slowly let the sadness seep out of him until there is nothing left for Even to be. (Not that that is a bad thing.) He will become an empty figure, a presence. He doesn’t want that. He wants to mean something. But how can he mean something if he wants to disappear? Even winces, silently scolding his thoughts and tells them to leave. He is still stuck to the sheets.

Even decides to move. Slowly, like he is trying to run in the ocean. Ocean. Ocean. Drowning. No. He staggers to his dresser, gripping his hands to the top. Looks into the mirror. Dust is floating on one side, and he can see that because there is sunlight beaming through the window. Funny, how people always pair being sad with darkness, because that is not always the case. Even sees his eyes, the blue green. Murky water. He sees his hair, greasy blond strands. He sees but doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t want to recognize.

As Even makes his way to the kitchen to grab a cereal bar, his phone does the ding. Lagging, he blurrily glances at the screen. Isak.

Isak: hey evi just wanted to tell you I love you. :)

Even: do you?

Isak: in every universe.

Even shoves his phone in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He walks out of the kitchen with a tiny hint of a smile on his face, thoughts forgotten. He lays back down on his bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin and you can see his feet poking out at the bottom of his bed. Even thinks about Isak. Nothing else. He thinks about the way Isak smiles, all teeth. He thinks about the way Isak’s eyes go all squinty when he’s doubtful of something Even said. Red beanies, red snapbacks. Scarves. Dancing to 90’s rap music. The soft, smoothness of Isak’s voice. Fuck, Isak doesn’t make him speechless. Isak makes him unable to think about anything else other than Isak.  
Even doesn’t realize that a few hours have pasted. He was too busy drowning in his own thoughts, momentarily paused by the memories of Isak. Just as Even got up from his bed, he hears a knock at his door.

“Halla?” A muffled voice says on the other side of the door. Even walks closer to the door, kicking his clothes to the side of the path. Who was it?

“Ja? Who is it?” Even peers closer, hand wresting on the doorknob.

“It’s me, Evi, it’s Isak. I wanted to come see you.” Even smiled to himself, raising his eyebrows even though he knows Isak couldn’t see. Even quickly pulls the doorknob for the door to open, silence coating the scene in a layer of peacefulness. Even stares at Isak, Isak stares at Even. Moments of silence, not taken for granted.

“Umm…can I come in?” Isak looked down at his feet, planted into the floor outside the door. He looked back up at Even, who was still gazing at him.

“Of course. What are you doing here, baby?” Even held the door as Isak walked in.

“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?” Isak took of his jacket and shoes.

“Anytime, but why would you want to see me like this?” Even walked Isak into the kitchen. Isak faced Even and wrapped his thin arms around Even’s middle and buried his face in Even’s neck. Took a deep breath.

 

“It doesn’t matter what you feel like. You’re my Even and I want to make sure you’re okay,” Isak lifted his head from Even’s shoulder and looked him in the eye and stroked Even’s cheekbone.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. At least not for a while.” Even felt his hands slip through Isak’s. He wanted them to fall to the ground. They didn’t. They fell to his sides and he became motionless.

“Nei. You don’t get to say that.” Isak tilted his head up to look at Even better, to peer into his mind, it felt like. “You don’t get to say that when you try so hard. Give yourself more credit, Evi. You’re so brave.” Even didn’t feel that way. He didn’t feel brave, he felt the exact opposite. He was afraid.

Afraid that Isak would leave. Isak would leave him in the middle of the day, Isak would leave and never come back. And god knows Even deserves that. Even was afraid that his mind will run away from him and he would be trapped, spiraling downward in a sick symphony of terror. Even wants Isak to stay. More than anything.

‘Even. Look at me, babe. I know it’s hard. I know it feels like you’re drowning but I will always be there.” Even glanced at Isak, at his fluffy hair behind a gray beanie, his flushed cheeks from the cold. One strand of wispy curls was in Isak’s right eye and one eyebrow fuller than the other. Even saw his reflection in Isak’s eyes. Even began to think something, really something.

Maybe Even didn’t deserve to wither away.

Maybe even deserved to see the other side of things, outside of black ink scratches on brown paper and bland crackers.

Maybe Even deserved Isak.

Perhaps Even realized, right now, in this minute, Isak in his arms, that not every ship is the Titanic.

Even if it was, Isak would be his lifeline.


End file.
